Don't Leave Me
by NutsandVolts
Summary: Haymitch takes a bullet, and Beetee is left to comfort him in his final moments.


**This is a drabble-turned-oneshot written for my friend Ellie over at my Beetee indie rp on Tumblr (becauseiinventedit). And...it really hurt to write. And still hurts. Meep. Enjoy the life-shattering feels... :')**

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Beetee's pulse throbs in his ears as he scans the perimeter. No Peacekeepers in sight. "Come, come with me," he whispers to Haymitch. The man is conscious, but only just; Beetee has to support most of his weight as he pulls him to the elevator – no easy feat since Beetee isn't very large himself. Even as he does this, his head spins. Never did he think – did anyone think – the Capitol would dare ambush 13. Not like this. Not by simply sending in as many soldiers as possible equipped with guns to blow the heads off of anyone they see. It's clear that the Capitol knows the battle is lost, that they're desperate to claim as many rebel lives as they can before they fall, but even so, Beetee never anticipated Snow would send so many of his own on what was essentially a suicide mission. And he never anticipated Haymitch – strong, brutish, unyielding Haymitch – taking a bullet to the gut.

As the elevator doors close, Beetee kneels in front of Haymitch and gently moves his shirt aside to take a look at his wound. It's nasty and bloody, and as soon as he sees it, Beetee's stomach drops; he's no doctor, but from all the blood, he's sure that Haymitch's aorta has been nicked. That the injury is fatal. At this moment, Haymitch's eyes flutter open. "How is it, doc?" he mumbles.

Beetee swallows. "Could be worse," he answers hollowly, though he's sure Haymitch knows otherwise. "You…you'll be fine." Again, he gulps; his mouth is very dry. "We just need to get you help…"

"No!" says Haymitch the moment Beetee tries to stand. Beetee meets his eyes, sees the desperation there; then, he slowly sinks back to his knees. His fingers brush the length of Haymitch's arm, and as soon as their hands touch, Haymitch grips his hand like a vise. "Don't leave," he tells him through a haze of pain. "Don't leave me."

Beetee's throat constricts, but he forces himself to speak anyway. "Of course not." Gently, he rests the man's head against his leg, running his fingers over Haymitch's forehead in what he hopes is a soothing gesture. He feels so awkward, so terribly wrong-footed; for Panem's sake, his friend is dying in his arms and he has absolutely no idea how he should proceed. But Beetee forces himself not to show this uncertainty. He doesn't want to scare Haymitch – who, despite what he'd probably tell him, is almost definitely terrified.

"Careful," Haymitch grunts as his head is jostled. His lips form a smirk, a shadow of his usual snide smile, and it makes Beetee want to scream. But he doesn't. He can't. Even when Haymitch utters his next word, which tears his heart to shreds. "Asshole."

Somehow, Beetee manages a laugh, though his eyes now burn with tears. "You could stand to be a little nicer to me," he murmurs, fingers still stroking Haymitch's hair. The man closes his eyes, a sigh escaping him.

"I could," he agrees, his voice soft and far away.

Beetee bites his lip. "But you won't." It's all he can do to keep smiling.

Haymitch opens his eyes once more. The elevator doors slide back open as well, bathing both men with light from Special Defense, the first place Beetee thought of to hide. "Nah," Haymitch whispers, still smirking weakly up at Beetee. "I don't think I will."

After a moment, though, his resolve seems to crumble; he squeezes his eyes shut tight, gripping Beetee's hand so hard he pops his knuckles. Beetee only squeezes back, though, just as hard, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the other man's. "Don't leave me," Haymitch repeats, his voice barely audible.

"Never."

Haymitch's chest stills in another minute or two. His grip slackens as well, but Beetee doesn't let go.

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**So. Yeah. While I struggle not to write a sequel in which Beetee goes and electrocutes all those Peacekeepers' asses, please leave a comment. And, um...having some chocolate. *hands out chocolate***


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